Rushing Water
by Deathweaponscarlet26
Summary: This is my first fanifiction about my OC, Scarlet, attending the DWMA! All your favorite characters will make an appearance in this fanfiction! Please read because I just want feedback on my writing style. Feel free to criticize my work XD
1. Arrival

Wheels grind to a halt as the moving truck behind me pulls into the driveway. I observe my new surroundings, taking in a pink apartment building with cream trim and a white door. Yup, that's what you should expect when you move to Death City. Houses painted nonsensical colors, spattered at random throughout the neighborhood. I roll my eyes as I look further down the street to see bright green, blue, and even purple mixed in with some more natural house colors.

"Scarlet!" Yells my mother, snapping me from my internal criticism of the city, "Come help unload our furniture."

I inwardly groan. There is so much junk packed into the truck and our car that the neatly trimmed grass I was presently standing on would grow an inch before we were done. Even though I'd rather go run around the perimeter of the city, I grudgingly walk over to where my parents are dragging random stuff onto the lawn which now looked like a dump, when only a few seconds ago it had looked freshly attended to.

"Is it okay if I take my own stuff and pick a bedroom first?" I ask hopefully. If I can waste time setting my own stuff up in my room then maybe I won't have to help my parents as much.

The best part about being an only child is being able to have first and only pick of everything. Walking through a new house is like walking through uncharted territory; every creak in the floorboards makes you jump and your excitement builds with each new door you open to reveal an empty but seemingly exotic, room.

The first bedroom has a slanted ceiling, giving it the effect of only being a half-room. It only has a skylight halfway up the slanted side on the left. Deciding it's not the room for me, I walk out.

The second room is spacey, with light blue walls and a mural of a sailboat on a wild seascape, smack-dab in the middle of the wall to my right. I look at the tiny little seagulls, delicately painted, seemingly dancing along the edges of the painting. As my eyes drink in every detail of each cloud or wave, I shiver as a feeling of deja vu washes over me like the water in the mural. Suddenly, a rushing fills my ears and I can't breathe, as though a pillow were being pressed against my mouth and nose.

It's ten p.m. The night before I'm supposed to go to the DWMA. I lay in my bed, pondering whether or not I should be worried about making friends or not. I've always gotten along relatively well with new people, but I've also made my fair share of enemies over the years. Stuffing my head into my slightly lumpy pillow, I sigh. Realizing that not getting enough sleep would be a bad thing to do, I shut my eyes and let dreams fly me away. 


	2. The school

I'm not a morning person. Never have been, never will be. Waking me up in the morning is like disturbing a fire-breathing dragon from its thousand year slumber. When my alarm clock goes off at 5:45 a.m, I just about smash the heck out of it before realizing I'd then have to buy a new one. I reset the timer and drag myself out of bed, walking with heavy steps into the bathroom connected to my room. I stare at myself in the mirror.

I have brown hair that drops to my shoulders, curling where it hits, and with freckles spattered along the bridge of my nose and even on my cheeks. I have a slight streak of pink on the right part of my long grown-out bangs where I used to dye it, but decided it took too much time.

_Whoops almost forgot to dress! _I think to myself before finding my way over to the giant suitcase that now held my mound of clothes. If this had been my house for longer they would have been strewn half hazardly all over the room.

I'm picky with my outfits. Only girly-fit, v-neck t shirts are for me. I pick out a blue one that is slightly see-through (it's dark enough that I don't care) and place a gray sweatshirt with a golden wings design on the back over it. For pants I just throw on one of my multiple pairs of skinny jeans before walking over to asses myself in the mirror.

I've never been called ugly by anyone, but I highly doubt I'm something to look at either. I think of myself as a happy medium. When the outfit passes my test, I slather some foundation over the dark circles under my eyes and brush on a tiny bit of mascara. This is about all I ever put on, aside from some eye shadow every once and awhile.

Shuffling zombie-like downstairs I open one of the kitchen cabinets and grab one of the old boxes of lucky charms that had made the trip all the way from Maine to Nevada with us. Spilling the rainbow pieces of cereal into a large bowl I gobble them down.

…

My parents aren't awake when I leave. Who would blame them, school mornings were always uneventful even though this one was different. I was finally going to a school that would let me hone my abilities as a weapon.

I hadn't always known I was a weapon. We found out that little side-fact when I

was ten and my cousin, James pissed me off by spilling soda all over my special dress. Before I knew it, my arm morphed into a flail mace like some medieval time fairy tail and I just about took James's head off. We passed of my little incident as something imagined since me and James were young. After a little bit of random googling, I was able to find this school, where weapons like me could learn about themselves. Now here I was leaving on my first day and I was freaking nervous.

…

The school is only a few blocks away so I easily walk there. I can see kids flooding up the stairs. Blue, Red, and even Purple shocks of hair mix among the sea of people heading through the giant doors of the shockingly huge school doors. This doesn't prepare me one bit for looking at the piece of architecture towering up into the sky above me. Skulls, candles, and red spikes jut out from the side of a building that doesn't seem to have any particular shape to it. Smiling, I adjust my heavy plaid-patterned backpack higher up onto my shoulder and step forward to walk up the stairs. My eyes study every grain of marble as I marvel at the perfection that is this building.

Suddenly, my toe catches and I'm falling face-first into the cold, unforgiving white stone, letting out a small squeak in the process. I save myself major damage by throwing my hands in front of me, but by doing so leave the weight of my backpack to crush me into the ground. (yes I'm small) I lay there, undignified, and on the verge of tears when someone's hand appears in front of my face, beckoning me to take it.

…

Looking shakily up the length of the arm, I'm staring into a relatively handsome face with freckles spattered across it, like mine. He smiles as I take his hand and he, with difficulty, drags me and my backpack up to a slouched standing position. Wincing in pain from my wrists which must have been on fire, I straighten up, never being one to show weakness in front of other people. "Thanks," I say shyly, blushing, as my performance a few moments ago rushes back to me.

"You're welcome," He says smiling again. "My name is Hunter," he continues, holding out his hand again, in a polite manner.

"I'm Scarlet," I finally get out after a moment of staring at the proffered hand. I reach out with my left hand, and gingerly shake it, trying not to whimper from pain. _Ouch, I really need to be careful! _I chastise myself internally.

Daring to say something to break the silence, I ask the first question that comes to mind. "How long have you been at this school?" _Urgh, _I mentally facepalm, _that sounded bit too cliché! _He seems not to notice my horrible question choice and instead answers.

"I actually moved here at the end of last school year, so I've only been in the school a few months," He says with slight chuckle. "I don't know nearly everyone in the school, but I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and guess that you're new here?"

"Yup," I reply, smiling. Then, thinking of the type of school this is, I come up with a more interesting question. "Weapon, or meister?"

"Meister," he replies without hesitation, "You?"

In reply I morph my left arm into my flail mace. "That answer your question?" I grin.

"Yup," he says, smiling. "What class are you in?" He asks

"Crescent Moon," I reply, having no idea why any class would be called that, let alone what class that was.

"Me too," he says happily, "maybe I'll actually have a friend to sit next to this year, huh?"

"Yeah," is my casual reply as I hide the bursting emotion that is my happiness for having a new friend already. "Want to head to class?" I ask him.

"Sure," he replies in a happy manor. We both continue our progress up the great marble steps, talking all the while until we reach the doors.

"I know the way," says Hunter stepping in front of me. I follow him until we reach the outside of the classroom. Glancing sideways at each other we both step into the room. The classroom isn't that much different than my old one. It has the same upward-slanted seating with a place in the center of it all for the teacher. This is a comfort to me as I already feel somewhat at home.

"Hello!" Says a voice from out of nowhere. I turn around and I find a friendly, feminine face smiling at me from a few feet away. The tall girl has long black hair flowing down her back in the longest ponytail I'd ever seen. I finally realize that I'm staring at her in silence and Immediately say my own greeting back.

"You must be new at this school, I'm Tsubaki!" She says in a very excited and polite manor. Before I have time to give my own name, a short male with a blue shock of hair jumps out from behind her.

"I'm Black*star and I will surpass god!" He shouts in a slighting annoying voice. I laugh at his childish manor and move to introduce myself as well, but he is already across the room to talk to a girl with brown pigtails.

"Oh," says Tsubaki, glancing at the girl, "She's a good friend of mine, you should meet her."

"Okay," I reply somewhat reluctantly, due to the last greeting I had received. I follow her over to Black*star and the pigtail girl with Hunter following close behind. A boy with white hair is now standing behind the girl in an almost protective manor. _Maybe they are dating? _I think to myself as I look at them. Tsubaki points to the girl, and then the boy in turn.

"This is Maka, and this is Soul," She says happily.

"Nice to meet you both!" I say happily as they exchange their own greetings. Just then, the teacher walks in. Not only is he dressed in weird, white robes, but he has a bolt sticking out of his head. A freaking bolt! Cranking on it, he looks over at me and Hunter and grins. I instantly back up, to freaked out to even speak. Tsubaki comes over and lays a hand on my shoulder comfortingly.

"It's okay!" she exclaims, "this is Doctor Stein, the professor." I take a look back at him. He's now speaking calmly with another student who I don't recognize.

"Okay, that's cool," I say, trying to make it sound like I was used to teachers with bolts sticking through their heads.

…

Class starts, and everyone I met sits together in the center of the room. We are joined by a pale boy dressed in all black, and his weapons. They introduce themselves as Death The Kid, Liz, and Patty. Hunter sits beside me while Maka sits on my other side.

"Okay class," Stein in a deep, rough voice, "let's tell the new student what our school is all about." He speaks in a somewhat monotone manner, as if reciting a boring poem or speech. One boy, who is lacking a little in the hair department, speaks up first.

"We are here to destroy the monsters who carry kishin egg souls. This is so that they never evolve into fully fledged kishin. Our second goal, for meisters anyways, is to raise death scythes for Lord Death to use if he ever has the need to fight a worthy opponent.

"Get it?" says Stein, peering up at me over his glasses.

"Yup," I reply, trying to sound casual, even as I feel curious eyes dig into me from around the room.

"So, says Stein, "Lord Death neglected to tell me," are you a meister or a weapon?

"Weapon," I say clearly, "a flail mace."

"Awesome!" shouts Black*star from a few seats over, "so you're a giant spikeball then?"

"That's correct"

"Tsubaki, why can't you have a flail mace mode?"

"Maka chop!"

*Klunk*

"Ow!"

I try desperately to suppress a giggle as Black*Star falls over, his head literally steaming from the hit Maka had dealt him.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," I laugh to Maka as she growls once more in Black*star's direction.

"Yeah, Maka can really deal out the damage when she wants to," says Soul leaning back in his seat, grinning.

"Maka chop!"

"Ow!" yells Soul, sitting up and rubbing his head. "What the hell was that for?!"

_"__Your smug face was getting to me," she replies huffily. It's obvious that the two like each other. Even though their manor of interaction suggests they aren't dating yet._

**Sorry guys, this was as far as I could get this time XD please comment and tell me what you think!**


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